Naughty Marietta. Nan Ryan

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      Two

      A low moan went through the crowd.

      Amid rising jeers and cheers, Cole stood stunned and totally still as the jailer roughly removed the noose from around his neck.

      “You’re free to go, Heflin,” the big lawman said, clearly disappointed.

      Marcus Weathers stepped forward, smiled at Cole and said, “Come with me, Mr. Heflin. The carriage is waiting.”

      “Where are we going?” Cole asked.

      “You’ll see,” replied Weathers as he took Cole’s arm and slowly guided him down the gallows steps, through the buzzing mob and toward the black carriage.

      Cole was driven a short distance to the city’s waterfront. The carriage soon turned into a long palm-bordered avenue that led to an opulent seaside mansion. The white two-story building was located at the center of a great expanse of well-manicured acreage. It gleamed in the late-morning sun and Cole quickly realized its inhabitants were afforded an unobstructed view of the Gulf of Mexico.

      Cole was ushered into the imposing mansion and immediately directed to a large, darkly paneled library where an old man sat in a wheelchair.

      Maxwell Lacey smiled when Cole entered the room and said, “Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Heflin. Won’t you have a seat.”

      Cole continued to stand. “I’m afraid you have the advantage, sir.”

      “I usually do. Or, at least, I try to,” Maxwell Lacey said with a chuckle.

      Cole didn’t share his amusement. “Who are you? What’s this all about?”

      “You’ll know soon enough what it’s about, Mr. Heflin. But allow me to introduce myself. I’m Maxwell Lacey. You may have heard of me.”

      “No, I haven’t.”

      “No matter. Would you like a drink?”

      Cole accepted. An unobtrusive servant immediately handed him a bourbon. Cole turned the heavy shot glass up to his lips and drank thirstily.

      Maxwell Lacey dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand and said, “Please, sit down, Mr. Heflin. Let’s have a little talk.”

      Cole drained the glass, set it aside and folded his long body down onto a comfortable sofa. Lacey wheeled his chair out from behind his desk and moved closer. He continued to smile as he sized up the lean, darkly bearded man.

      The man he had chosen to do his bidding.

      Maxwell laced his fingers together in his robe covered lap, leaned forward and said, “I know all about you, Heflin. You’re the man who singlehandedly burned Hadleyville during the war and—”

      “Ancient history,” Cole interrupted with a dismissive shake of his head.

      “Not ancient history to the occupying federal forces,” Maxwell Lacey reminded him. His eyes flashed when he added, “You were tried and convicted in absentia years ago and sentenced to hang! Took them seven years to catch you.”

      Cole shrugged his wide shoulders. “What’s that got to do with you?”

      “Everything, Heflin. I saved your life. Had the federal commander order you taken down from the gallows. I am a very powerful man in Galveston. And a rich one. I greased the necessary palms, pulled the necessary strings to have your life spared.”

      Cole raised one well-arched eyebrow, looked Maxwell Lacey in the eye and said, “My sincere thanks. But again, why?”

      With an ominous laugh, the old man ignored Cole’s question and stated, “I expect to be repaid for your deliverance. You will do exactly as I ask, Mr. Heflin.”

      “And why would I ever do that?”

      A sharp pain pressed Maxwell’s spine. He paled, but continued as though Cole had not spoken. “There is a special young woman, a Miss Marietta Stone, an opera singer in Central City, Colorado.” He pointed across the room to the poster featuring Marietta. “She is my granddaughter and my only living relative.” He paused.

      “Go on,” Cole said.

      “I am dying—I have only a matter of months, perhaps weeks, СКАЧАТЬ